“Je t'aime, Q.” I love you.
His arms banded exquisitely tight. “Je t'aime avec toutes les ombres du monde pour l'éternité.” I love you with all the shadows in the world for eternity.
Sighing, I fell asleep with our bodies entwined.
At least physical distance didn’t exist between us anymore.
Tomorrow, I’d work on the emotional gap and guide my husband back to me.
I WAS BEING a fucking bastard.
I knew that.
I knew it, but I couldn’t change it.
Every time I tried to talk about what hurt me, my throat clammed up and my heart bucked out of control. When Tess had tattooed me last night, she’d given me more than I could’ve asked for. She gave me time to sort my shit out and the courage in which to do it.
I wouldn’t return home without having the balls to get this over with and tell her. She deserved to know, and I deserved to make peace with it so I could move the fuck on with my life.
Placing my wedding ring on the desk (ignoring medical protocol for new tattoo healing just like Tess had), I traced the dainty lettering on my finger left by my incredible wife and wrenched open the locked cupboard beneath the stationary drawer.
I had a private stash for days full of stressful business. I rarely touched it and never thought I’d be stressed where Tess was concerned—not now she was safe and forever mine.
Last night, I had full intentions of getting ridiculously drunk. I’d even taken my time selecting a perfect bottle of liquor. I’d sat in my leather chair and glowered at the pool table where I’d first hurt Tess. But something had stopped me from pouring the first shot.
Yes, I wanted to drink to rid this crushing desire inside me. But I also needed to be an adult. I wasn’t a fucking animal—as much as I gave myself that excuse. I was human. I was a man. These new needs had just fucked me up, and it was time to tell them to piss off because I didn’t know how else to deal with them.
However, if I drank, that conviction would fade. I might actually get on my knees in front of Tess and tell her everything I’d been keeping a secret. And no fucking way did she need to see me that way. Who knew what she would do when I finally found the spine to tell her.
No, alcohol wasn’t the right path last night. I needed to be truly honest with myself and see how deep these new desires went before numbing them.
It’d taken hours. My mind had raced. A headache had formed. But at least an answer had solidified.
Now, I knew.
I knew that it wasn’t a superficial dream. Somehow, this craving had become a part of me, and until I knew why I couldn’t have what I wanted, I wouldn’t give up hope. Sitting downstairs alone, I’d made a deal with my beast.
I promised that if I could collar it for a time, shove its dark needs deep, deep inside me, then perhaps I might be worthy of getting what I wanted.
It was a fucking ridiculous thought. A shrink would have a field day with me. But it was how I felt, what I believed, and nothing would convince me otherwise.
Frederick knocked on my door, letting himself in before I approved—like he always did. The day had been busy, going over a new merger and making sure every last bit of paperwork was finalised for the new investments on our books.
He knew more than I did about what I was going through. Not because I’d told him but because he was the one who’d guessed before I had.
Smug bastard.
Pinching two crystal glasses on the silver tray by my bookcase, he settled into the Eames chair facing my desk and wiggled the two goblets for me to fill.
I obeyed without speaking.
Pulling the expensive liquor from my cupboard, I sloshed a generous amount into both. Stoppering the bottle, I picked up the cool glass and clinked with his.
With a nod, we threw back the fire.
Hissing between my teeth, I immediately refilled and drank again.
My friend’s eyes burned into me.
I wanted him to leave, but he wouldn’t. He’d never given me room to mope in my past, and he sure as hell wouldn’t now. He believed I’d grown up; lost my diabolical need to hurt. What he didn’t know was I was better at negotiating deals with the monster living inside me. Those needs weren’t gone. The anger and rage at the filth of the world hadn’t faded. If I could trade places with one of the mercenaries I’d hired and kill a few traffickers with my bare hands, I would. I wasn’t growing soft in my old age. I was growing more and more lethal.
Tess recognized it.
I recognized it.
It was yet another reason why I’d condemned myself to this future. Because the alternative was too fucking terrifying to contemplate.
“Have you told her yet?” Frederick refilled his glass, keeping pace with me. Thank hell the helicopter was on standby to take me home because we would be over the limit within minutes.
Fuck it.
Last night, I’d restrained myself. I’d had the strength to soul search and compartmentalize what I needed to say to Tess. Tonight was about giving myself some freedom.
If Frederick wanted to drink with me, then fine and fucking dandy. “No.”
“Will you tell her?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
I shrugged, taking another shot.
“You have to get it out in the open, Q. You’ve never kept any secrets before.” He massaged his neck from working all day. “Besides, she’s already guessed. She said she’d seen the paperwork. She’s smart.”
“I know she’s smart. But I’ve given no indication of wanting this before now. I even told her at the start of our relationship that I didn’t want it at all. Why would she put two and two together?”
“Because she’s your wife and she loves you. She feels what you do.”
I shook my head. “She feels what I want her to feel.”
Could she have guessed? Would she tell me if she had?
Frederick laughed. “If you believe that, then you’re an idiot. Wives know more than us. A lot more.” Tapping the paperwork proud and centre on my desk, he added, “This charity proves that you can have what you want just in a different way.”
“I don’t want it that way.”
“Well, it might be the only way unless you man the fuck up and find out once and for all.”
I tossed back a double, wincing as the burn incinerated my insides. “I already know what I’m doing wrong.”
Frederick paused. “You do?”
I nodded. “I’m hurting her. Whenever we fuck, I go too far. She says she likes it but what if she’s lying? What if she’d said no...at the start? Would I have found the strength to stop? Would I be better now?”
“If you start chasing answers to those questions, you’ll drive yourself insane.” Frederick slowed his drinking while I threw back another and another.
My vision lost its sharpness, but I didn’t give a damn. If I had to crawl home, I’d be fine with that.
“I don’t need to chase. I have answers.”
“Don’t torture yourself, Q. That stupid conclusion you came to last week isn’t the reason.”
“Fuck, it has to be. What else?”
“Anything more believable, that’s what.” Frederick suddenly stood up. “You know what? Go home. Talk to your wife. I’m not doing this with you. Only she knows exactly what you guys get up to. She’s the one who will tell you you’re being a fucking idiot.”
I stood up, bracing my fists on the desktop. “Don’t call me a fucking idiot.”
Frederick chuckled, moving toward the door. “Go home, Q. Talk to her. It’s the only thing you can do to get this mess sorted out.”
He didn’t let me retaliate.
Slipping through the door, he closed it with a soft click.
I itched to throw his empty glass at the wood but refrained. Just.
He was wrong that going home and talking to Tess was the only thing I could do.
I had other alternatives.
Such as sitting here drinking and findin
g liquid courage to do what was needed.
Forgoing the glass, I tipped the bottle straight to my lips.
Who needed a goblet when it all ended up in my stomach anyway?
I SMELLED HIM before I heard him.
Even obliterated Q moved like a freaking ghost.
I’d fallen asleep in the library beside the fire. Courage and his family were curled up in the ambient warmth of the flames on the chesterfield rug, snoring lightly, while I reminded myself over and over that Q and I were fine.
For hours, I’d been ensconced with old books and the memories of the past—remembering when I’d returned to Q and taken a blood pledge to always fight him, always stand up to him, and never, ever let him break me.
For some reason, I’d let him pull away these past few days. I’d broken that vow by not fighting. I’d destroyed my side of the bargain because I’d let him win.
But not anymore.
I’d done a lot of thinking about the charity I’d seen on his desk and the reasons for his unhappiness. Seeds of ideas had sprouted into mildly terrifying but scarily exciting conclusions.
I think I know…
Q padded past the library, taking with him the fumes of whiskey. I waited as he patrolled the house, looking for me. Everyone had gone to bed even though it was only eleven p.m.
I was glad for the pretense of an empty home. We had no recovering women living under our roof tonight; the three rehabilitating girls in our current care slept in the house across the lawn with their families.
Which was good.
Because Q and I had a lot to talk about and I wasn’t entirely sure how it would end.
When he finally stalked through the premises and didn’t find me, he retraced his steps. My skin prickled as his footfalls sounded louder just before his shadow appeared in the doorway. The dog’s ears pricked; their black eyes zeroing in on the master of the household.
“There you are, esclave.”
His voice was heavy and potent, slipping through my blood like the alcohol he’d consumed. I doubted he’d eaten; I hadn’t seen him this pissed since the night the police arrived.
My body tingled, remembering what we’d done afterward. How connected we’d been. How in love I’d fallen from one night of unbridled monstrosity.
I wanted that to happen again.
I wanted him angry and rough. I wanted to be completely consumed. And I knew how to make that happen.
Placing the first edition copy of some French classic onto the side table by the wingback, I stood on firm legs. I’d slipped into a pastel pink negligee. My hair was freshly washed with air-dried curls, and my body hid behind the clinging satin, hinting at my curves. My hands curled for war, but my nipples betrayed me, pinpricking like diamonds against the lingerie, very visible and aching for his teeth.
I’d dressed accordingly for the sexual fight we would no doubt commit.
His eyes drifted to my chest, his throat working as he swallowed.
Q had only grown more attractive as he aged.
His sharp widow peak and soft green eyes were severe and pristine. His black suit and aubergine tie crisp and full of dominant authority. From his clipped fingernails to his polished, sharp teeth, Q was a predator through and through.
But I wasn’t his prey.
I was his equal. Hunting by his side, massacring our enemies, not afraid to enter a fight with him snarling beside me. But like any good partner, I submitted to him and only him. I sheathed my claws when he came for me. I bit but only gently. I let my mate mount me and fuck me because our power lay in the dynamics of being equals and accepting our place in life.
Our place together.
Q had forgotten his place.
I would help remind him of it.
Ignoring the dogs, I strode to meet him in the middle of the carpet. I tilted my head. His glassy eyes met mine, struggling to focus after drinking copious amounts of whiskey. “Hello, maître.”
“Bonsoir.” Good evening.
His French never failed to lash around me with the softest threads and harshest demands. I shuddered with anticipation and desire. I wanted to give in to him so desperately, but I also wanted to fight.
We needed to fight. To air whatever it was that he hurt with.
I wouldn’t drag this out. We both knew we’d been stalemate. We hadn’t moved past the conversation we were about to have when Frederick had interrupted us.
As if no time had passed, I said, “I saw those papers on your desk. I know the ones you mean.”
Q stood ramrod straight. “We’re doing this now?”
“Do you have a better idea?”
A cloak of despondency settled over him. “Fine.” His fingers moved stealthy, undoing his tailored jacket and slipping it down his arms. Standing with only the slightest wobble, he undid his cufflinks, threw them to the floor, and rolled up his shirt cuffs. His tie was undone and tossed over the arm of the wingback while the first few buttons of his black shirt were undone to reveal a tease of the tattoo on his chest.
I didn’t know if he was preparing to talk or attack me.
My breathing turned feathery. Did he have to do that? In just a few motions, he’d made this layered with sex.
“Where do you want to start, Q?”
He chuckled with black undertones, “Oh, I can think of a few places.” He stalked me.
I parried back. If I let him touch me, it would be all over. The air crackled with pent-up lust. My voice wobbled. “Why did you get so upset? Why won’t you talk to me?”
“First, tell me what you saw.”
“I already told you.”
“No, you didn’t.” He shook his head, his eyes flashing. “Along with the animal charities, what else have I donated heavily to?”
My heart chased my lungs around. This was it. I didn’t look away. “Orphanages.”
His posture stiffened. “And—”
“And supporting unwanted babies with medical issues.”
He continued to corral me around the room. “Any idea why I would suddenly have the urge to help in that way after a lifetime of no interest?”
I shrugged, but I couldn’t hide the knowledge from blaring on my face.
He kept chasing me, backing me into the same desk that he’d swiped everything off and made me vow to love him no matter what. The polished wood stopped my retreat. He had me trapped. “Q…”
Deleting the space between us, he bared his teeth. “Yes, Tess?”
“I don’t know…”
“Yes, you do.”
“I need you to say it—”
He chuckled angrily. “No, you don’t. According to Frederick, you know more than you’ve let on.”
I do. Or at least, I think I do. But why won’t he admit it?
Feigning ignorance, I tried again. “Tell me...”
“Why should I?”
“Because I want the truth.”
He snarled. “The truth?”
My spine tensed. “Yes.”
Q jerked hands through his hair. “Okay…the truth.” Taking a shaking breath, he growled, “I want something I didn’t think I’d ever want.”
“You want to adopt?”
His glare pinned me into a panting statue. “Try again, esclave.”
Oh, my God.
I was right.
I’d wondered if this would ever happen. If Q would change his mind about having a family. He said he didn’t want one. How could he switch so quickly?
“You want a child?”
He didn’t reply, but his eyes glowed a deeper, truer green full of confession and guilt.
Why did he feel guilty? There was nothing to be guilty about. People changed their minds all the time.
My hastily formed conclusions from earlier turned from seedlings into thick roots threading through my heart.
A family…
“Is that true?”
His eyes dove into mine. “As much as I wish it wasn’t, yes, it’s true.”
“You’
re helping with charities because your mind has turned to babies.”
A black cloud descended over him. “And what does that tell you, Tess?”
“You want a baby?”
His face hardened. “With?”
“With me?” My fingers fluttered over my chest. I wobbled at the thought of getting everything I’d ever dreamed of. I’d accepted his condition about not having children because I loved him enough to be complete without it. But hearing him admit to a change of heart…
I couldn’t explain the fizzing giddy sensation making its way through my blood.
I wanted to touch him, hug him…finally tell him my opinions about such a revelation. Imagine sharing our wonderful life with a child of our own…wow. Even though I’d known Q’s stance on starting a family, it didn’t mean I hadn’t tested his conviction over a year ago.
Dinner one night, I’d brought it up—very suave with no pressure—and Q hadn’t been interested in the slightest. I’d remained on my contraception injections and didn’t mention it again.
He’d been through a lot with his family, and I hadn’t had the best experience, either. If he didn’t want children, then I wouldn’t pressure him. I hadn’t brought it up again, which made this all the more precious because he’d come to this realisation on his own with no prompting or hinting from me.
He hadn’t replied.
I repeated my breathless question. “You’re saying you want a baby with me?”
Trembling, Q placed his hands on either side of me, hemming me against the desk. His eyes shot black, dropping to my lips as the heart-stopping words spilled from his lips. “More than fucking anything.”
“But…I don’t understand.”
“What’s there to understand? I’ve had a change of heart. I never wanted kids, and now…now, I want it more than fucking anything because I love you. I want to multiply you. I want you pregnant with my, our child.”
Tears glossed my eyes. “But when we talked about it before you said—”
“I didn’t want this then.”
“So…what’s changed?”
His gaze devoured me. “Me, you. Us. Everything. Can’t I change my mind about such things?”
I wanted to look away but couldn’t. My skin tingled with intensity. “But I’m on birth control. The injection doesn’t fade for another few months.”